Chapter Fifty-Five: One by One


Emelia Kinsington Montgomery considered herself to be good at a great many things. Knitting, for one, had always been something she excelled at. Her mother was known around Kessog for her cable-knit sweaters and large socks. It was a talent she had inherited, although she hadn't been able to use it much in the last six months. Her mother spent more mornings than she could count whistling in the living room as she spooled her own thread to use. Waking up to the sound of her clacking needles was almost as comforting of the feel of the sweaters in Emelia's hands. She thought, when it was all said and done, that she might knit something for Kili, something blue perhaps, that would keep him warm inside the mountain.

Emelia was good at chess, although she didn't know if that was something they played in Middle Earth or not. She didn't think she would have much use for the game when she got settled, however. It was a silly thing, now that she thought about it, and so very insignificant in the grand scheme of things that she almost didn't want to include it in her mental list of talents.

She supposed she was a good person. She was kind and decent and never stuck her nose in other people's business. At least, no more than the average person. She also thought she was a good friend, to the few people that had actually bothered to push through all her antisocial tendencies to get to know her. She was good at keeping her room clean and her clothes washed. She kept her bookshelf tended to and always did what her parents asked, even if she didn't want to. She always brushed her teeth, it was only proper after all, and never missed a birthday party that she was invited to, even if she wanted nothing more than to be tucked up in her favorite armchair reading a book.

And despite it all, despite feeling like she had lost her parents and brother much earlier than she should have, she found she was never very good at dealing with death.

She had done a rather spectacular job of blocking the image of the dead elves, dwarves, and men from her mind for the greater part of the entire battle, but she found she couldn't do it anymore.

At first she hadn't been able to stop looking at Balin. His face look peaceful and serene, almost like he was sleeping. But then, she turned her attention to the mountain, finding that she just couldn't look at him anymore, not when she thought he might wake up at any moment. She didn't know what made her look at the mountain. Perhaps it was a reflex, her mind telling her that so much could have been better, easier, if dwarves weren't so stubborn, men so greedy, and elves so self-righteous. Perhaps she simply sought the comfort of knowing that, if she wanted to, she could slip inside and hide in the halls and wait for it all to be over.

She sighed to herself and leaned back over Balin, speaking in a low, pleading voice, barely above a whisper as she fussed over him. The amount of blood still made her sick, but she knew most of it wasn't hers. It soaked the earth beneath her knees, pooling and spilling out over the rocks like somebody had decided to fling it around.

"Emelia!"

She did not turn around at the sound of Bilbo's voice, too busy smoothing down Balin's hair so that it might look like he liked to wear it when he was alive. Even when she thought she had managed to get it how he liked it, the hair would spring back up like it was permanently on a coil. The little curl he like at the end of his beard stubbornly elusive and the longer she tried to get to shape how he would like, the worse she made it.

"Emelia, what are you doing here?" Bilbo skidded to a halt next to her, apparently not noticing Balin at first. She turned to look at him, covering Balin up with her body so that she could keep him from knowing for just a moment longer.

He took a step back when they made eye contact. She imagined she was a sight, all covered in blood and sucking in greedy gulps of air. Her entire body still shook as she fought hard not to collapse under the weight that the universe deemed fit to burden her with. He looked at her face, eyes dancing from her eyes over to the mangled remains of her ear. He crossed the distance between them immediately and pressed something to the side of her head so that he could staunch the blood flow, even though she hardly felt the pain anymore.

She didn't feel much of anything, now that she thought about it. Not pain, not regret, not even sadness. She felt numb and it wasn't a feeling that she liked very much in the slightest.

Bilbo pressed the cloth to the side of her head again and she was forced to swat his hand away as she turned back to Balin.

"What happened?" She could hear the hesitation in his voice, but she didn't respond, instead turning back to Balin so she could keep smoothing his hair. "Who is that?"

He probably recognized her jacket, now slick and stained with blood, draped over the distinctly dwarf-shaped body.

She shook her head and leaned closer to the body, hands ghosting over the jacket where his head was. Just his hair was sticking out. Bilbo was probably going through every single one of their companions, imagining who it was and who might hurt the least, as disturbing as that was. She thought he might have arrived at the conclusion that there wasn't a single one that wouldn't steal the very breath from his lungs. Even Bifur, who communicated exclusively in Khuzdul and a baffling collection of hand gestures and grunts, would cause him an unimaginable amount of pain just as it did her.

He walked forward and bent down next to her, looking to her face for some sigh of who he was going to find under the jacket. She gave him none, so he reached a shaking hand forward and gripped the fabric of her coat for himself. He looked at her one last time and pulled it back.

He sat back and covered his mouth with his hand.

"What happened?"

Again, she said nothing.

"You have to speak to me, Emelia." He grabbed her shoulder and forced her to look at him. He was blinking back tears. She did not cry like he did, she had done her fair share of that. She felt like she had moved beyond that stage of grief, beyond the valley of pain and suffering that came from losing a loved one, and had moved on. She should feel worried about herself, but all she could think about was what she could have done to prevent it or how things could have gone differently if she had just thrown her spear a second faster. She didn't want to make Bilbo feel worse than he already did, however, so she schooled her features and sucked in a steadying breath.

She reached out and traced the deep lines of Balin's forehead, smoothing the skin tenderly.

"He was watching me," She managed to say after a moment. Her voice was barely above a whisper, cracked and filled with so much hurt she could hardly recognize it even as she said it. "We were heading back to the mountain because he said he wanted to make sure no orcs got inside. But he was lying." She needed to tell him, one way or another, even if it felt like she was reliving it all over again. "He said I had no business being here or in the city. He was right, of course, but it wouldn't have happened if I…"

"Emelia."

"It's my fault."

"It was the orc that killed him, Emelia."

Logically, she knew that was true. She collapsed in on herself, the blame she had concocted in her mind now the only thing she could think of. She pressed her face into her knees, hiding every from him but the shaking of her shoulders as she struggled to breathe once again. She felt him squeeze her shoulders and pull him closer to him, wrapping his arm around her back despite the uncomfortable angle from her taller height. He was kind enough to ignore the warmth of the blood seeping down from her ear as she closed her eyes as well. They could have sat there for an eternity, neither one willing to break the silence.

After a moment she managed to tear her gaze away from her own knees and back onto the battlefield. Bilbo kept his arm wrapped around her. It was a protective gesture. She knew he knew she was capable, as she thought she had shown numerous times, of taking care of herself. At first she thought he was doing it for her, that he thought she needed to comfort of physical contact, but when it stretched on, she realized it was for his own benefit just as much as her own.

Emelia could tell when someone pitied her. It wasn't hard, really, to see the look in their eyes or the way their mouth seemed to purse up. It was as if they were fighting every instinct they had to not say it outright.

Bilbo had that look.

She removed his arm from around her shoulders and stood up, taking a few quick steps away from the mountain. She scanned the valley in front of them, just now noticing that something was wrong.

There weren't enough orcs. It was a silly thing to think, but there just weren't. Even as she stood there, more and more orcs fled the battlefield and turned their attention towards the city. The trolls, the Olog-hai, the wargs. All of them seemed to move in tandem, like a hive mind of the worst possible variety. Emelia furrowed her brows, confusion washing over her. She refused to believe that they just happened to all spontaneously decide to attack the city. Someone had to be controlling them, telling them where to go.

Following this train of thought, she walked away from the mountain, ignoring Bilbo's calls.

There seemed to be a vacuum of activity, an ebb that pulled the remaining orcs even further from the mountain, leaving behind nothing but a wash of mangled corpses and broken weapons. Bilbo called her name again, but she didn't look back, too busy turning around in her spot as she looked for whatever was drawing the army away from them and towards the city. Even the dust that had been kicked up by the flurry of activity seemed to settle, making it all feel eerily devoid of life in more ways that just the dead bodies would suggest.

A horn sounded across the field, spurring the remaining orcs, who were now almost a football field's length away from her and mountain, to move faster towards the city.

She spun on her heel, looking for the source for the horn.

"Up there!" Bilbo shouted, pointing up past the ridge of small foothills that skirted the mountain. She followed the line of his arm and blinked, searching for what he had seen until she saw the bright red flags perched on the edge of one of the taller overlooks. Standing next to it, looking very much like a pale boulder, was a white blob that Emelia could only assume was Azog.

"Is he controlling them?" She asked, watching as the red flags changed position once again.

"They're moving towards the city," Bilbo said, coming to stand next to her.

Emelia felt what little color she had left drain from her face. The screaming started shortly after that, carrying out above the flurry of other noises like it was meant just for them. Imagining it was Tilda or Sigrid screaming was all the impetus she needed. She turned around and walked back to Balin's body, looking around for the orc spear. It sat discarded to the left, bloody and still stuck with a bit of his skin from when it had torn through him. Her fingers dug into the woodgrain for a moment, until she shook her head and turned back to Bilbo.

"Do you think he'll be safe here?" She asked, unable to stomach the thought of leaving him alone.

She could tell that Bilbo didn't have the heart to tell her anything remotely resembling the truth, as evidenced by the way he nodded. She smiled slightly, something more akin to a twitch, and involuntary reaction, than anything else. Still, it comforted her somehow. She tried to remember how it had been when she first met them. There was so much distrust between them that she didn't think it would be possible for her to ever see them as companions, let alone friends. Then the months stretched on and she, like the rest of them, had learned to accept each other for who they were. The sadness she carried with her, at the loss of her home or something else she couldn't quite articulate, turned into a grudging acceptance that later turned into something else entirely. She could not say that she was happy, because it was hard to truly be with everything that had happened to them, but she smiled more than she frowned and stopped blaming everything on Thorin.

At first she thought she didn't think she had much in common with Bilbo, that little hobbit who wanted nothing more than to sit by the fire and forget the problems of the world for just a moment longer. She could see now, more clearly than ever, that he was the member of Thorin Oakenshield's company that she understood the most. She was connected to Kili and Fili, obviously, but she felt like Bilbo was very much like her.

Neither of them were meant to deal with so much death, neither of them very well-equipped, and yet, there they were, staring down its open mouth as it tried to swallow them whole.

"It's too late to warn them," Bilbo said, pulling out Sting. "Even if we could make it over there, the orcs will have them overrun."

"We can still help." Bilbo cleared his throat. She thought he might have predicted her response before she said it. It was the sort of stubborn response she thought she had become known for, but she couldn't help but say it even if it didn't accomplish anything. She bit her lip and shouldered her weapon, moving closer to him with a fierce look on her face. She manually buried her grief with every self-control she had, focusing her mind on other things for the time being. "We hid the rest of the people in the caves. There might be a way to barricade them in so the orcs can't get to them. If we're lucky, they'll still be in there."

Luck had escaped them all long ago, but again, she didn't need to vocalize that, finding that she just didn't have it in her to say it out loud.

"We can't, Emelia."

"Why?"

"Azog has set a trap for Thorin. I should have left already but…"

"You saw me."

"Legolas and Tauriel brought word of a second army. Ravenhill will be overrun. I was on my way when I saw you."

"The delay could kill them."

"Legolas and Tauriel went along to help, along with Fili and Kili."

"Six against an entire army?" Emelia asked, turning in her spot to look up in the direction Bilbo pointed to with the tip of Sting.

"Six?"

"Dwalin was with Thorin. I'm assuming those conjoined twins didn't just spontaneously decide to separate from each other," Emelia said. "Are you sure it's Azog. I thought Thorin killed him outside the Goblin-town."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I basically forget he existed."

"He chased us to Beorn's house." Bilbo made a face, clearly concerned that she didn't remember. She did, she just didn't have the mental energy to give it much more than a passing thought.

Emelia felt Bilbo moved next to her and she grabbed his wrist, slick hand slipping slightly.

"Thorin will be reckless."

"How are we supposed to get up there? What do you propose?" He asked. She could feel his hand twitching.

"We help them," Emelia said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that."

"Because it's Thorin," Emelia filled in, starting to fidget. She glanced back over her shoulder at Balin once again. She swelled for a moment, drawing in a deep breath that brought her to her full height until she deflated once again and her shoulders sagged and the deep lines across her forehead and next to her mouth returned. "Balin, he…"

"He wouldn't want us to dawdling around."

Using the hand he had wrapped around her wrist, she pulled him over to her, crushing in a hug as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Bacon and Eggs?" He asked, voice muffled by her hair.

"It doesn't feel the same," She admitted. She brought her hand up to her face to protect it against the dirt and stepped back from him. She took a few steps away from the mountain, knowing that the longer they dawdled, the more likely it was that something bad was going to happen to one of their loved ones.

"No, I suppose you're right."

He followed after her, both of them leaving the mountain behind as they moved out into the field in front of them. The dust kicked up from the orcs made it hard to breathe and Emelia had to press her hand into her mouth a bit more to keep from inhaling too much. She only managed to smear her face with more blood however. Fighting against her gag reflex, she dropped her hand, making the decision that lungs full of dirt were better than a mouth full of blood.

"We should follow the river," Bilbo said, keeping pace with her despite his shorter legs. His hand flashed across her peripheral vision as he pointed to her left. She could feel the cool breeze wafting off the ice, but she didn't have any idea how close they actually were.

Emelia looked back at him, opening her mouth to agree, but was cut off by her foot catching on something on the ground. She went flying forward and face planted with a thud, sending a cloud of dirt up around her. She groaned and flipped over, hissing as her ear brushed against the ground. She propped herself up on her elbows and sat back, motions sluggish and stilted. Apparently taking too long to get up, she felt Bilbo's arms around her shoulders, pulling her up into a wobbly standing position. Her foot slipped again and she pitched forward, coming dangerously close to slipping over the side of the river that had, apparently, been next to them the entire time.

"You need to watch where you're going."

Emelia wanted to say something snarky but didn't, finding that she didn't have the energy nor the temperament required to actually come up with something clever.

"They'll be dead by the time we get there at this pace."

"We could use a ram," Bilbo suggested.

"What?"

"A ram. Although I don't know where we'd get one," Bilbo mused, looking around.

All there was to see was dead bodies and for a moment, Emelia thought that was all they were ever going to find. But then she saw it, panicked and trying desperately to hide itself into a crevice in the riverbed. Its hooves clacked on the ice and it whined louder.

"There," Emelia said, pointing it out as she started moving back to the river edge. She sat down on the side and shimmied forward, arms staying back to lower her down carefully. She ignored the pain and lowered herself down just enough that she would be able to jump without doing too much damage. She landed with a thud and slipped, catching her knees on the edge of the bank. She looked up and smiled at Bilbo, holding up both her thumbs. He rolled his eyes and turned around, sticking his butt out as he followed after her.

Emelia tread carefully, eyes darting up and down between the ice beneath her feet and the ram in front of her. The ridiculousness of her situation did not escape her, nor did the fact that the last time she had been on frozen water it hadn't ended well for her. She ignored both of those little facts and kept walking. The ram shuffled back when it saw her approaching, breathing heavier with panic. It shook its head, clinking the reins and leather the dwarves used to ride it. She felt bad, selfish and mean, for not caring about how scared the ram was, but they needed him. She moved faster, holding out her arms, hoping to placate the animal.

"Hi," She cooed softly, moving slower when she got within ten feet. "I'm Emelia."

The ram shook its head and snorted, sending a puff of visible air towards her.

"There's no need to be afraid," Emelia said, inching closer and closer. "It'll be okay. If you get me and Bilbo up the side of the mountain, I promise you'll never have to see another orc again."

"Emelia," Bilbo called. She waved her hand, shushing him before he spooked the ram anymore.

When she was close enough to feel the heat from the animal she stopped, dropping her hands in the hopes that it would endear her just a bit. The ram turned its eyes on her, studying her in an eerily human way. It did not step back, but she could tell that it was ready to bolt at any moment. She could relate, if only in the sense that that course of action was something she had been contemplating it for hours now. The ram breathed deeply, the metal plates of armor it wore on the back of its neck shifting and settling. Emelia observed it for a moment, mimicking its breath patterns until she felt like the ram wasn't going to bolt. She scooted closer, raising her hand up once again as she breathed with the ram.

In and out. In and out. In and out, until she felt herself relaxing ever so slightly. The ram shuffled in place, hooves clacking on the ice. After a moment, she grabbed the reins and pulled, fighting as it tried to pull back, letting out a pained noise. Emelia stepped closer, yanking it's face so that it was even with hers. She placed her hand just below its eyes, murmuring almost incoherently as she stroked up and down, smoothing the fur successfully like she had been unable to do with Balin. "See, I'm not so bad," She whispered, stroking the animal until it stopped tapping its hooves and trying to pull out of her grasp. "If you help us, I'll let you go."

"We need to go," Bilbo reminded her gently, although she ignored him.

"You can run away and never look back," She said, pressing her face to the ram. "You won't have to see your friends die anymore. Does that sound good?"

When the ram finally calmed enough for Emelia to turn back to Bilbo, she couldn't help but smirk slightly. "Eat your heart out, Snow White."

"Well done," Bilbo praised, smiling at her in a way that made her feel like he was pitying her once again. Perhaps what she had said did sound a touch pathetic, if it were applied to anything but the ram, but that didn't give him the right to start looking at her like that again. He walked over to her and eyed the ram skeptically, making sure to keep her in between him and the large animal as he held out a slightly shaking hand and attempted to pet the ram like she was. It jumped at the touch of another person and Bilbo immediately pulled his hand back. She rolled her eyes and turned back to running her fingers over the wiry fur on its face. "Do you think you can ride it?"

"I assumed you would know how to."

"No, not at all."

"Then why did you suggest it?" The tone of her voice startled the animal, forcing her to grip harder to the leather reins.

"We can't exactly walk all the way there, now can we?"

Emelia scowled at him over her shoulder and walked around to the side of the ram, throwing its reins over the top of its massive horns. They stuck out more than usual, making them all the more hazardous. It pulled back slightly, but didn't stop her from heaving herself up onto the saddle. She gripped her thighs, uncomfortable for a moment until she adjusted to the sway of its back and the feel of the rough leather scrapping her legs through the thin material of her pants. After a few more seconds she turned back to Bilbo, raising her eyebrow as she waited from him to join her.

"Are you coming or not?" She asked, growing impatient with his indecision.

"Of course," Bilbo spluttered, stubbornly walking over to the ram despite the nervous look on his face. He pushed her leg aside so he could use the stirrup and pulled himself up behind her. "Perhaps, though, I should steer."

"Why?"

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Do you?"

Bilbo made a noise at the back of his throat and shook his head. Still, she sighed and jumped off, allowing him to scoot forward. She didn't really care either way, as long as they got there in time to help. As she put her hands on the back of the ram, it moved more, jumping under her touch as if she had spooked it somehow. Bilbo did his best to quell the movement, but Emelia still had trouble getting the animal to hold still long enough for her to jump on. It whined, hooves stomping into the ice hard enough to cause it to crack on the surface. She looked down, lips pursing as she tried to keep its back legs from moving just long enough for her to get back on.

"What was that?"

"What?" Emelia asked, voice showing her frustration.

"Over there." Bilbo pointed, although she ignored him and continued trying to calm the ram down in vain. It just wouldn't hold still.

"Oh for god's sake." She wrapped her hand around the underside of the saddle and yanked, jumping slightly just as the ram started sprinting down the frozen river.

She yelped at the suddenness, grabbing onto the back of Bilbo's jacket to keep herself from flying off as the ram tore further and further away. Her feet scraped across the ground, pain shooting up her legs every time her heel caught an imperfection in the ice. She picked her feet up after a moment and held them aloft, now forced to use only her arm strength to get herself upright. After a moment more of struggling Bilbo reached down and wrapped his hand around the collar of her shirt and wrenched her upwards. The fabric tore but neither of them paid it any mind as she finally managed to pull herself up and onto the back of the ram just in time for it to pitch upwards, scaling the rocks and out of the riverbed. Emelia was forced to wrap her arms around Bilbo to keep from falling off backwards, resulting in her practically dangling off the side as the sides of her legs banged into the rocks on the way up. Out of chance, she looked back, hoping to see if anything real had scared the ram, or if it was jumping at its own shadow.

Her eyes widened when she saw the small pack of wargs, sans riders, pursuing them, teeth bared, muzzles stained red with blood. She gripped Bilbo tighter, almost hard enough to cause him to drop the reins and send them careening off the ram entirely. "Wargs," She hissed, lifting up her legs to avoid getting hit by a too close boulder. "Bilbo, faster!"

The one closest to them opening its mouth, foamed spit flying out as it snarled. It snapped at the ram's backside, coming so close Emelia could feel the rush of hot air and smell the stench of disease and blood. Her mouth dropped open as she went through the possible ways to fix this in her mind and coming up woefully short. The warg bit again. Reflexively, she reached down and punched its nose, slowing it down just enough to piss it off. "Use my sword!"

Emelia blushed.

She had forgotten about that. And there she was planning on punching the wargs to death.

Keeping one arm wrapped around Bilbo, she fumbled to grab the sword at his waist, hands slipping over the pommel for a moment before she was finally able to grip it well enough to use it. She knew it was small thing, not much longer than her forearm if she were being generous, but seeing it in her hand and seeing the size of the wargs teeth made her wish that she had held onto the sword Kili gave her. It was weighty and far too big for her, but it wouldn't done the kind of damage it needed to, instead of simply stinging like a mosquito. She tested the weight briefly, getting the feel for it before she shoved it violently into the warg's face, not really aiming for anything and missing everything. She took a deep breath and pulled her arm back, realizing that's he would actually need to aimed if she was going to do any real damage. She lined her arm up again and clenched her muscles. It would get stuck in the warg if she didn't grip it tight enough and then they really would have no other option other than hoping for a miracle.

And those had been in short supply as of late, so she didn't allow herself to even consider than for even a moment.

She thrust the sword forward and managed to catch the warg just under its eye. Black blood sprayed her face as she pulled the sword out and the eye seemed dangerously close to popping out. She looked away, knowing that she would probably hurl if that happened and readjusted her grip on the hilt. The warg collapsed onto the rock, only to be replaced by the other two, meaner and bigger than the first. The ram jumped upwards, moving at an incline so steep she would have slipped off had it not been for her arm around Bilbo.

The second one lunged at them, swiping its claws. It caught the underside of her thigh on its way down, causing her to cry out in both pain and surprise. She sliced sideways, aiming for just below the warg's jaw, and forced herself not to close her eyes when the short sword cut across the jugular.

The kept climbing upwards and away from the third warg, who got caught behind the other as it fell, putting some much needed distance between them. Emelia relaxed slightly and turned around, pressing her face into the space between Bilbo's shoulder blades to help fight the vertigo that was building at the base of her skull and behind her eyes. She tried to look at the rocks but they moved to quickly, the ram scared into a nonsensical pattern that left her world spinning. It was easier to keep from throwing up if she just didn't look at anything else until they stopped moving, so she closed her eyes and pressed closer to Bilbo waiting for the feeling to pass.

She didn't notice at first when they stopped moving. It was only when she felt Bilbo peel her arms off and stumble off the animal and left her sitting alone on the nervous creature that she finally opened her eyes and looked around her.

Ravenhill, if that's where they were, looked like it was straight out of someone's nightmare. The roughhewn stones climbed upwards towards the dark sky, leaving them feeling closed in and trapped should the final warg find them. The stone was dark, almost black, and slick with ice. Her breath fogged out in front of her, the only noise being the sound of their rapidly beating hearts for a moment, before Bilbo had finally had enough and spoke.

"Did you kill them?" Bilbo looked distinctly green. Still, he held up his hand to help her down. She handed him back his sword, thankful to give it up for a moment so that she could take care of her leg with both hands. Now that the slight adrenaline had worn off, she started to feel the dull sting. She knew that, in time, she would feel the pain in full, but for now she could still flex her muscle without debilitating pain, so she scrunched up her face so that Bilbo would know and shifted her weight to put it on her good leg as she tried to shift into a position that would make it easier to get off the ram. When she found none, she sighed and simply turned lowered herself down.

"I missed one," Emelia admitted, voice slightly strained. Her legs wobbled. She grabbed a hold of the saddle and held herself up, hissing as she put weight on her leg. "Its friend didn't miss me, though." She gestured to her leg, more annoyed than anything else.

She pulled the ripped material of her pants to the side and surveyed the damage. It wasn't so bad, put it still wasn't pretty to look at. She touched the skin on each side of the gash, no longer bothered by the sight of her own blood oozing out and surveyed the damage. She took a deep breath and moved her finger over the wound, testing the deepness, ignoring the intense pain, before she was satisfied that it was only a little worse than a flesh wound. It was probably already infected, knowing what she did about warg claws, but she didn't have the time to deal with it so she settled for folding her pant leg back over the cut and pressing the fabric down, hoping to create a small barrier until she would be able to actually put something on it.

"That might fester," Bilbo pointed out, leaning over to look at her leg. His hand grabbed the back of her thigh and lifted it up, throwing her off balance enough to cause her to glare at him.

"Very helpful," Emelia said, no trace of humor in her voice whatsoever. "Could you put my leg down?" She snapped, flicking his shoulder.

"You need to pu…"

"Bilbo, Emelia, what in the name of Mahal are you doing here?"

They both turned around with their mouths open, neither one expecting to see Thorin quite so quickly. He looked between the two of them, eying her leg in Bilbo's hand with raised eyebrows. She yanked her leg back, doing everything in her power to keep from letting her pain show on her face, and stood up straight, trying to save what dignity she could. She crossed her other leg in front of it, not wanting him to see the injury, and waved her hand. She didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of hiding her ear from him, but she thought it would be better if he didn't know about the leg. He might be more pleasant that way, at least. She shifted sideways, using Bilbo as a human shield, and tried not to scowl too much at the very fact that Thorin was within ten feet of her, breathing the same air and not showing any sign of apologizing.

"Where's your ear?"

That didn't take long.

Dwalin emerged from their left, more or less free of any visible injuries or otherwise. Emelia wished she could say the same for herself. She opened her mouth to explain what happened to her ear, to tell them everything, but found the words catching in her throat when she made the mistake of looking at Dwalin's face. She lost her ear by the same spear that took Balin from them. It seemed wrong to her, disrespectful and cowardly even, to tell him of one and not the other. For her ear might hurt and take away any hope she ever had of properly wearing glasses ever again, but she was still alive enough to complain about such trivial things. But she knew she couldn't tell him. Not right now. It hurt to look at him, to know that, to him, there was nothing amiss. She felt Bilbo move next to her and place his hand on her shoulder, squeezing some sense back into her.

They couldn't tell Dwalin. The inability to do so weighed heavily on Emelia for a prolonged moment before she realized how selfish she was being and she cleared her throat.

"I thought you were with Balin," Thorin said, walking over to her. "Let me see." He touched her neck, causing her to jump at the sudden feeling of his thick fingers. They were warm but they didn't comfort her like they should have. She felt cold in his presence, angry and sad and scared. He turned her head so he could look at the ear and tutted, shaking his head. "What caused this?"

"A spear," She said, pulling back and putting some distance between them. "Where's Azog?"

"Is that why you're here?"

"To help you, yeah."

"That is unwise," Thorin said, causing her to scoff. She stepped back entirely, putting the space she needed between them to keep a level head, to keep her mind clear of the anger she felt towards him and to outstretch her own wingspan just in case she decide to hit him.

"Well, fuck you too, then." She turned around and took a few steps away from them, shoulders tensing up so tightly the muscles physically hurt. She clenched and unclenched her hands, breathing in a smoothly as possible until she was ready to turn around and look at them again.

The silence stretched on between the four of them until Bilbo cleared his throat, pulling their attention back over to him. "Have you found him?"

"No, but we will."

"This feels like a bad idea," Emelia said, hoping that they would listen to her, just this once. "Where are the others? Fili, Kili?"

"I sent them ahead to scout the old aviary."

"Are you nuts?" Emelia asked, spinning around too fast and causing her leg muscle to pull. "Ow. Dammit. What kind of dumbass decision was that Thorin?"

"Those orcs are going to keep coming unless we cut them off. Azog is the key," Dwalin said.

"It seems a little too cut and dry," She insisted.

"He will not escape again."

"I don't think that's his plan," Emelia said, scrubbing her boot into the ground. "Unless you don't want to hear about that."

"I am not blind," Thorin snapped, causing her to look around at him. They glared at each other, mirroring postures tense and combative. "This is the only way to ensure that that filth is gone, once and for all."

"This just seems sketchy," Emelia said, gesturing around her. "No orcs, no olog-hai, no trolls. Azog knows you're here. Why would he leave himself that vulnerable if he didn't have something up his sleeve? This is a trap Thorin. Legolas and Tauriel have seen the army from the north themselves."

"Perhaps if you truly thought so, you should not have come."

"I'm not here for shits and gigs, you wombat."

"What?"

"Like my tone didn't make it clear what I meant," Emelia snapped, feeling like she was beating her head against a stone wall.

"He murdered my grandfather in front of my eyes. He slaughtered my people and destroyed our heritage. You expect me to let his treachery go? You would expect me to allow him to walk away from what he has done? You are…"

"Where do you think I've been the last six months? Do think I slipped into a coma and just missed all the bad shit Azog has done to you. I know, Thorin. I know how much you want to kill him. I want you to kill him, but we have to smarter about it."

"Do not lecture me."

"Oh, come off it. This isn't a lecture. This is me, the voice of reason, trying to keep you from walking directly into a trap."

She thought that if it would make him understand her better, she might try ripping out her hair to make a point. He was a stubborn ass, she had always known that, but this seemed to take it a step further. "Why won't you listen to other people for once in your life?"

"Emelia, I will not let him live. Either you will help me with that, or you will leave."

"Are you going to banish me again?" She asked, causing both Bilbo and Dwalin to look between them with wide eyes and open mouth, in Bilbo's case.

"Lassie," Dwalin started, shifting slightly as if he was prepared to jump in between them, if the need should arise. His movement broke her out of whatever fervor she felt and she stepped back, looking down at her feet in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you spo…"

A rock shifted to their right and they all turned around, weapons, or fists in Emelia's case, raised defensively.

"Well this is a fine greeting," A voice called and they all relaxed. Fili and Kili emerged from the dark, smiling at them as if they weren't interrupting something and crossed the small space over.

"Bilbo, Emmy, what are you doing here?" It was Fili who spoke, although Emelia couldn't see him. Kili had gotten to her first and managed to wrap her up in an embrace so tight, she couldn't see anything but his hair and a bit of light peeking through, not that she minded.

"Why is it that I always find you in the worst possible places?" He asked, finally releasing her. He swooped in for a quick kiss on her lips, clearly unbothered by the fact that they had an audience of both his uncle and brother.

"It's a talent, truly."

He kissed her again, a bit more enthusiastically, and she blushed, pulling back. "Hello, Kee."

"Hello, beautiful."

"Mind her ear, Kili," Dwalin said, flicking his chin up and drawing all of their attention back to the mangled flap of skin sticking out of the side of her head. "Apparently, she is not that bothered."

"There's not much left. Emelia, what happened?" Kili asked, turning her head sideways like Thorin had so that he could assess the wound for himself.

"A stray spear," She said, again feeling like the worst sort of excuse for a person imaginable.

"A warg scratched her leg as well," Bilbo piped up. She thought he might catch fire with the intensity and heat from the glare she gave him.

"Emelia!"

"What? It's not like I stuck my leg out and covered it in meat drippings. It was an accident and I'm fine. So can we all go back to talking about the real issue here?"

"Right," Fili said, winking at her from behind Kili. Even with the flippant gesture, he still eyed her ear and then her leg, seeming to do his own assessment of her, just to be sure. "We checked and there's nothing. Not a sign of Azog or any other orc anywhere."

"Perfect, then we can all leave before he shows up with an entire army at his back."

"No."

"Thorin, she m…"

"Mr. Baggins, I thought it was your intention when you joined this quest to be of assistance, not a burden?"

"Thorin…"

"You know what, fine. We'll do it your way," Emelia said, feeling dread building up in her gut. His way would likely get them all killed, but who was she to try and get him to see that. She was just the girl he banished and washed his hands of.

His intention was written in stone, after all.

"We did not go down to the lower levels," Fili said,

"Then that is where you will go. I do not want to give him to opportunity to slip away again. He is here and we will find him."

The finality of his statement hung over all of them. Emelia sighed, knowing that that was the end of that. Any further arguments would just serve to anger him even further and, as much as she enjoyed the idea of having another verbal spar with him and seeing just how red his neck could get, she had been in Middle Earth long enough to know that they didn't really have the time for that.

They didn't have time for much of anything, as a matter of fact.

"I'll go with you," She said, making up her mind rather quickly.

A screech sounded from above them and, once again, they all dropped into defensive gestures almost immediately. They weren't luck enough for it to be more dwarves, however. Instead, they were met with the sight of well over fifty goblins climbing over the ridge, practically screaming at the very sight of the six of them huddled together.

"Fili, you and Emelia go back to the lower levels. Kili and Bilbo, you take the overlook to the north. Dwalin and I can handle this."

Again, that seemed like the worst plan imaginable, but she bit her tongue and did as she was told, walking over to Fili, stubbornly ignoring the great desire she felt to limp and sit down. "Be safe, all of you," She said, looking at Kili the longest.

They had said goodbye to each other so many times it had quite lost its effect on her. She smiled at him, in spite of her apprehension, and even managed to return the wink he threw at her. He looked so confident, as if he knew without any inkling of doubt, that they would see each other again once it was all over with. She couldn't fault him for that sort of easy confidence. It was part of why she loved him so much, but she couldn't help but feel like it was misplaced. The very nature of their little venture invited disaster. She had grown so used that, however, that she didn't say goodbye to him like she probably should have.

Instead, she simply smiled at him once more and hurried away with Fili, not even taking the last chance she had to look back at him when she could.

Walking through the lower levels of Ravenhill felt like walking through a cemetery. The very air they breathed seemed frozen in time, dead to everything that traveled through and poisoning them for daring to be alive in the presence of so much death. She moved closer to Fili as they descended lower, taking the steps carefully so as not to disturb the uneven rock and alert the orcs. So far, there was still no sign of them, but Emelia didn't think that would last for very long. Azog was here. He was above them, waiting to jump on them and strike them down. He was beneath them, like a white devil. He was all around them, knife poised to run straight through them and add them to the count of those who had already died.

They would just have to find him first.

"What really happened to your ear?" Fili asked, voice quiet enough that it didn't even echo off the rocks like it would have at normal volume.

"I already told you," She said, keeping her arm wrapped around the back of his jacket.

"Well, you're known to be a bit of a liar."

"I exaggerate, fib, stretch the truth, and omit key information, but I never lie," Emelia defended, sounding indignant despite the lack of a leg to stand on.

"Am I to assume the irony was intentional?"

"I don't want to talk about it?"

"Em," He pressed, holding his arm back to keep her from walking out into the new room. It was circular, so large and cavernous she could barely make out how far it was to the other side. When Fili was certain there was nothing lurking in there, he removed his hand and stepped away from her. He walked out onto the walkway, sword still raised although there was nothing there. She scurried after him, finding that she felt better if she was closer to him. He turned around in his spot and looked at her, pressuring her with a simple look that made her feel thoroughly shamed. "You can tell me."

"A spear really did take a chunk of it," Emelia said, looking down at her feet. She scrubbed her boot against the uneven stone and kept her gaze firmly downwards, knowing that the moment she told Fili the truth would be the moment she started crying again. So instead, she focused on other things first, such as how the stone beneath her feet seemed less sturdy than it should have. It was built by dwarves, after all. She had sort of begun to assume that their craftsmanship tended to stand the test of time.

"Emelia, your shoes have not changed in six months. They are unlikely to know, even if you were to look away from them."

The little pebble that she was toeing around with her boot bounced. Once, twice, and finally a third time and off the causeway entirely. "Did you do that?"

"No," Fili said. "I'm over here. You would have seen me kick it."

"Well it didn't just go bouncing off on its own."

"Shush," He whispered suddenly, waving his hand at her to quiet her down.

"What?" She hissed, crouching down slightly.

He didn't respond to her, but instead wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her back through the doorway that they came from. He pushed her towards the stairs and up against one of the walls, shielding her body with his own. After a moment of tense silence she heard what he did and the sound of blood rushing in her ears was drowned out by the banging of drums and the stomping of feet. She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, looking up at the ceiling with wide eyes. After a solid bang, it cracked straight down the middle, sending dust and little bits of stone raining down on them.

Fili pushed her down a few more steps, looking around frantically for a moment until he looked back at her.

They shared a look, an unspoken understanding passing between them, before they both crept forward, walking down the rest of the steps and out onto the causeway directly below the one they had just stood on. They could hear the sound of the orcs all around them, stamping their feet, shouting, screaming, laughing as they moved through the derelict old outpost. The very walls seemed to shake. Emelia pressed closer to the ground and scooched sideways, unable to stop herself from staring at the ceiling once again. Every crack panicked her, made her think that it was going to come crashing down on them at any moment. She scooted faster, thigh muscles practically on fire from the pain of keeping herself upright and quiet.

They reached the end at the same time and both paused.

There wasn't much they could do. If they went back the way they came, they would surely be surrounded. If they continued further, the result would likely be the same. But they couldn't very well stay where they were, considering that the walkway was just as likely to give way beneath their feet as it was to give way to the orcs.

"Hang on," She said, feeling the niggling of an idea beginning to form.

Emelia rushed to the end of the walkway and looked up the edge of the one above her head. She could see more now that it was lit with the torches from the orcs. Her plan relied on a great deal of luck and dubiously well-thought out physics, but they had little other choice. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, looking up at the wide walkway above them. It shuddered as the orcs passed over it, cracking even more.

It seemed eggshell thin and yet, as she stared at it, it felt like it was thicker than all the walls combined. But then she saw it, the one buttress that was already cleaved nearly in two. It sway every time something moved and the rocks above it shifted even more. She yanked on the back of Fili's jacket and pointed excitedly, proud of herself for even seeing it, let alone putting two and two together of what would happen if she poked it just a bit.

She gestured to the weak point, fingers pointing to the pile of rocks on the other side of the beehive shaped room. Fili stared at it for a moment, thick brows knitting together over his eyes before he finally understood what she getting at.

The color drained from his face and he immediately shook his head.

"No," He mouthed, scooting back into the safety of the hallway. "Absolutely not."

"It'll work," She hissed back, crossing the small space. "Hit the supports and the whole thing comes crashing down."

"Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"Mine," Emelia said, feeling the need to defend herself. It was probably, definitely, stupid, but it seemed to be best thing for them at the moment. "And I don't hear you coming up with any better ones."

"How are we going to collapse the supports without also crushing ourselves?"

"I hadn't thought that part out."

"Or ensure that we don't cause the entire place to fall apart?"

"Again, I didn't think about that part."

"Or, m…"

"Fee, I get it. It's stupid. But there are currently hundreds of orcs and goblins and god knows what else and this is the best I can do to help with that." She sat back and pulled her legs up to her chest, trying to block out the deafening sounds from above.

He moved across the small space and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side. "What do we need to do?"

"We need to get across and undermine the supports. I think I can do it, if you give me a boost."

Fili mulled it over for a moment, scowl deepening for a brief moment before he nodded and removed his arm from around her shoulders. He pulled back and got back into a crouched position, moving back to where he had been a few moments before. Emelia struggled to follow him, favoring her leg just a bit. She wrapped her hand around the back of his coat and pressed in closer, leaving only about six inches between the two of them as he started moving across the narrow walkway.

The stones beneath their feet cracked as they walked, but neither of them stopped. If anything, they moved faster, crouching all the way until they cleared the path and were safely on the other side. There wasn't much room between where the door ended and where the bridge began, but it was enough for both of them to stand side by side. Fili grabbed the back of her jacket as she leaned out, looking up at the walkway above them and the cavernous drop below them. She hadn't been sure of her plan, but as they stood there, she felt even less confident.

Her hands shook, but she shoved them behind her back so that Fili wouldn't see.

"Ready?" She asked, keeping her voice deceptively even and calm. She needed him to say it, if only to reassure her. He nodded slowly, looking at her in a way that made her guts feel like they had turned to pure ice water.

The moved shifted sideways, inching slowly across the narrow ledge until they were just below the buttress.

"One of us will need to boost the other."

Emelia rolled her eyes. One of them had noodle arms and a faulty leg, while the other had a barrel chest and had proven time and time again that dwarves were stockily built for a reason.

"Yeah, one of us will," She hissed, gesturing for him to hold out his arms so that he could boost her up.

He crouched and held out one arm, grunting slightly when she stepped into his hand and popped up. Keeping his arm around the jutting rock, Fili braced himself as she climbed. She stuck her left foot on his hip and heaved herself upwards, teetering dangerously for a moment before he steadied her with a strong arm around her waist. She extended her arm, waving it frantically as she tried to reach the support. She was a good three feet away, if she was on the lower end, four if she was unlucky. She looked down at Fili and shook her head, moving her arms so he could see. He rolled his eyes and nodded, bracing himself even more as she started climbing. She bent down, wobbling erratically, and put both her hands on top of his head. He groaned when she pushed down, but, to his credit, they didn't move any more than before.

"Killer thighs, Fee," Emelia said, struggling to get herself into position.

"Em," Fili warned, fingers digging into her hip as she started to lose her balance. "Can you reach?"

She swung her arm around and nodded when she touched the rough surface of the support. "Ready?"

Fili grunted and she took that as her confirmation that she could continue.

Taking another deep breath, she balled up her fists and pulled it back, lining them up for a moment before she hit as hard as she could.

She knew it would hurt, but she didn't expect the shock of pain that reverberated up her hands and made her shoulders ache. They swayed just as the support started to crumble. It started out slow, nothing more than a crack that didn't seem like enough to bring the whole thing down, but then it spread, and Emelia was sure she had never witnessed something so exciting and terrifying all at once. The walkway shuddered, seemingly unaffected by the loss of a support, for a brief moment before it collapsed.

Time seemed to slow as they both watched it fall down before their eyes. First, the stone. It slammed into the other walkway, building up until the weight was too much and it collapsed as well. The orcs came next, falling like dead birds. They screamed until they hit the ground. She felt bad for a moment, but then she remembered that they killed Balin.

She had no pity for them.

She remembered when she wondered if she was a bad person for killing one, how terrible she had felt when the sword cut through its neck all those months ago. The white hot guilt that cut her like a knife seemed so silly now. She had been so worried that her mom and dad might not look at her the same way when she got home, like they would know exactly what she had done and hate her for her. Now, she felt nothing if not pleased and she didn't even think her parents would be disappointed in her.

She thought they might even be proud of her.

Shifting on Fili's shoulders, Emelia tried to get him to lower her back down. He held out the hand not wrapped around her hip and grabbed her extended hand, wobbling slightly as he tried to help her down, all the while keeping them from tumbling down like the rest of the orcs. She made a mental note to commend him on that later and started to slowed slide down his back.

Fili shifted beneath her so suddenly that she pitched forward, causing her face to slam into the wall and slide down. She closed her eyes to keep them from getting scratched and reached her hand down, touching the top of his head in an attempt to keep from falling off him entirely.

"Emelia!" Fili shouted, although it was almost drowned out by the continuing collapse of the room. He started to say something else but was cut off when the stone beneath his feet gave way.

She threw out both her arms and grabbed onto the nearest thing, which happened to be the last bit of stable rock in the room, and wrapped them so tightly around it she could practically feel the bruise forming. She slammed to a stop before Fili did. He was forced to use her as his thing to hold onto, resulting in him clinging painfully to her injured leg and her screaming louder than she probably should have. He swung forward with the momentum of his fall and slammed into the wall, sending another jolt of pain through her.

"Climb up!" She cried, furiously blinking back tears so she could see what she was doing and where she was sticking her hands. The rough rocks cut into her hands, but that wasn't what horrified her. No, instead it was the feeling of her fingernails practically snapping off. "Fee, do it now!"

"Stop squirming," Fili said as his hand ventured further north. He wrapped his fingers around the waistband of her pants and pulled himself up just a little higher.

"I can't hold us both, you fat ass, now climb!"

It seemed like he only moved an inch in the time they hung there. Still, she felt his hands grabbing onto her like her bits and bobs were grip holds on a rock climbing wall.

"I'm going to let go."

"The fuck..."

"Emelia, look to your left."

She managed to stop staring at her own arms and hands for half a second to look at what he was talking about. It wasn't much of anything. Barely enough for someone with hands as small as her to grab onto, let alone someone like Fili and his sausage fingers. "Absolutely not," She said, voice straining as she struggled to keep them both from plummeting over a hundred feet and to their death.

"It's that, or we both fall."

"Don't be dumb." She was insistent, although it was hard to focus on much of anything other than the searing pain in her forearms. "You're chubby little hands won't be able to hold onto it worth shit." Fili scoffed. "Oh don't act like that. Not when I'm…"

He did it anyway. He grabbed her around the waist and used the more solid base of her middle to propel himself sideways. She could only see her mottled mess of nasty hair when she turned her head but when he didn't make any noise that sounded even vaguely like he was currently careening downwards, she breathed a small sigh of relief. Without the extra weight dangling off her she was finally able to haul herself over the edge and onto the flat surface. She could barely feel anything other than the horrible tightness in her muscles and the almost blinding pain in her leg.

"Move over," Fili said, nudging her with his arm. She did so without opening her eyes, finding a bit of refuge up against the cold stone wall.

She heard the sound of him pulling himself up next to her and she thought for a moment that things were going to be alright. But then, as most things did when left in her hands, it all went to shit.

The rocks directly above their heads collapsed on top of them, forcing her to curl into a fetal position and cover her head with both her arms. After each one hit her she thought they might stop, but they kept coming. She screamed when one hit her left hand, crushing it so thoroughly she couldn't feel anything but the blinding pain. Still they fell, one of top of the other, stacking up until it was hard to breathe.

"Fili!" She cried, voice petering off as a rock hit her back.

One by one they covered her up, burying her alive until she couldn't see anything in front of her but pure darkness.

Emelia opened her mouth to cry out for help, lungs working over time to pull in air as the rocks pressed down on her, before she closed it again. It would be a waste.

There was no one to save her.

There was no one to hear her scream.


Part 2 of 3 for the final battle. Sorry for the delay, but life circumstance being what they are, has made consistent updating on all my stories next to impossible.

Next chapter is already almost done, so it won't be long now. You'll know soon enough, good or bad.

As always, thank you for the support! We reached 1000! in my absence, which is absolutely bonkers to me.

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

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